


Destiel Shorts

by dreamofflight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comment Fic, Ficlets, M/M, Prompt Fic, Slash, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofflight/pseuds/dreamofflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bunch of my Destiel shorts from prompts, comments, reblogs, etc,.<br/>I've tried to cite wherever the inspiration came from in the fic summary each time, if there was outside inspiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The locker slams shut and almost catches his nose, making Castiel jump back in surprise, heart leaping in his chest.

“What the fuck De-”

He hisses out at the slightly taller boy standing in front of him, hand that had shut the locker with such force still pressed firmly against it, like it was a creature that would get away if Dean didn’t hold it down. The words die on his lips though when he sees the look on Dean’s face; the other boy’s eyebrows were knitted together, tight and drawn down, green eyes squinted but that did nothing to hide the fury and fire that lit them up like a Christmas bulb. His jaw was clenched tight, a little muscle that ticked in the side of it pulsed rhythmically as Dean stared the black haired youth down, making Castiel’s stomach swoop like he was on a roller coaster ride.

“Room 217. Now”, Dean said, voice like hot coals up Castiel’s spine, lighting a fire inside him and raking his body through something like terror all at the same time.

And then Dean was gone, stalking away through the crowd down the hallway, leaving Cas alone to stare, bewildered, after his best friend.

What. The. Fuck.

It doesn’t take Castiel long to pull himself together, but he walks slowly, fear building inside him as he plods down the hallway towards the room that seemed permanently empty, used as storage by most of the teachers in the High School, filled almost to the ceiling tiles with piles of desks and chairs, chalkboards lining one wall, broken or unused. By the time he gets there though, Dean isn’t any less pissed by the way he yanks Cas inside and slams the door shut, locking it with one hand as he pins Cas against the wall with the other. Castiel’s blue eyes stare up at Dean, wide with worry- what was going on, he had never seen Dean this pissed, not even when some asshole Senior had been caught picking on Sammy.

“D-Dean…what’s going- mhpphm?!”

His words are cut off by the crush of warm lips against his, bruisingly hard, as his best friend slams their faces together, making a cut off growling sound as he grinds his hips up against Cas’. Dean moves his hands to capture both of Castiel’s in one iron grip, yanking them up above his head, pinning them against the dusty wall. Cas gasps and Dean uses that moment to invade his mouth, shoving his tongue inside to flick and lick over Castiel’s mouth, devouring him from the inside out, still pressed hard against him below- Cas acknowledges with a surprised moan that he can feel Dean’s cock growing hard against his thigh, and the sound only makes Dean push his hips against him harder. Dean’s other hand snakes down Castiel’s side, eliciting a breathy gasp from Cas and an arch of his hips towards Dean’s as Dean’s hand tucks under Cas’ shirt and scrapes nails over bare flesh that it finds there.

Dean breaks the kiss with another growl and glares at Cas, who stares back, eyes half lidded, gasping for air.

“D…Dean…what-…what are you doing?”

“….You lied to me Cas….”

Dean’s words sound both angry and hurt, spit out of a screwed up mouth as he glares into Cas’ eyes that suddenly flare wide at Dean’s words.

“Wha…what?”

“You lied…..you ….said you loved me….and then you….you go and fuck that stupid fucker from the football team?!”

Dean presses his forehead against Cas’, eyes shutting and mouth moving down, almost a grimace, like Dean was either about to scream in angry or cry, and Castiel didn’t like the idea of either happening.

“Dean, what are you-….wait…Darius?”

Dean nods and shoves himself away from the wall, and Cas, moving away too quickly for Castiel to catch him.

“….I didn’t…I didn’t do anything with Darius, Dean. Whatever you heard was a lie.”

“Oh, so you didn’t blow him?! You didn’t suck him off behind the gym last night, after practice?”

Cas winces, and suddenly it comes back to him…Late night working on a chem project, someone had brought some vodka, Cas had a little too much…and then Darius had been there, picking him up off the ground and offering him a ride home, and Cas had said he would thank him…Darius had sighed his name when he came deep down Cas’ throat. Cas blushes and covers his mouth and Dean makes a choked sound that was a mixture of a sob and a snarl.

“But—…Dean I was drunk!…And…besides..”

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest, defiant and defensive, all at once.

“….You haven’t even talked to me in a week…Not since I told you.”

“….I know…”

“….Then why the FUCK do you get to be angry?!”

Cas throws his arms out, glaring at Dean, raising his voice to his best friend for the first time in their relationship, for the first time since Freshman year, when Dean had rescued Cas from being picked on, and they’d spent every day together since. Dean winces and looks down at the ground, at is feet, shuffling from one foot to the other, frowning angrily. His voice is filled with stubborn anger when he speaks again, like a child who’s refusing to admit they’re wrong.

“….because.”

“….Yeah okay…I’m going, this is bullshit Dean.”

Dean leaps forward and grabs Cas’ wrist, yanking him back into a tight embrace.

“No…just….stop”

“….Dean…?”

Dean holds onto Cas like he’s the last flotation device in the world and Dean’s drowning.

“…I’m sorry I couldn’t-….no….I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Cas pushes Dean away, both hands pressed against Dean’s chest, Dean’s hands gripping his upper arms tight. He narrows his eyes and raises his chin.

“…Tell me what.”

“….That-…..I love you too, Cas….I always have…just…y’scared me.”

Dean shrugs and looks up into Cas’ eyes, all the anger having drained from his own green ones, face pleading with Cas to hear him out.

“…I scared you.”

Cas blinks, face blank, but he unlocks his elbows, and Dean uses the moment to bring him closer, backing up until his legs hit a desk, and he sits down on it, pulling until Castiel is standing between his legs. Dean nods and licks his full lips nervously.

“…You scared me. I had been hoping for this for months..years…and then there it was. I didn’t-….wanna ruin anything.”

He frowns again, realizing how stupid this sounds, but doesn’t have a chance to finish the expression, as Cas is bending down and capturing his lips with his own, arms wrapping around the Dean’s shoulders to press their bodies tightly together. Dean shivers as Cas initiates the kiss this time, so different from moments ago. Before it had been anger and terror, Dean forcing it because he was just so MAD with Cas…Now it was soft brushes of lips, the slide of a tongue, sweet taste of Castiel’s peppermint gum he was always chewing. Cas breaks the kiss first, backing away so he can look into Dean’s eyes.

“You big idiot.”

And he smiles.

Dean blushes and smiles back, tugging on one of Cas’ belt loops.

“…yah…I know…”

Cas smirks and kisses Dean’s forehead, snuffling slightly at the brush of Dean’s short hair tickling his nose. Dean hums and shuts his eyes, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s thin waist and pulling him even closer, gasping slightly when their groins brush against one another and their softening cocks press together through the denim fabric of their jeans. Cas echoes the gasp and moans softly, backing away again, the look on his face flipped from one of humor and adoration to lust and need as he looks back into Dean’s eyes.

“….We’re already late for class….”

Cas says, and there’s a suggestion there that Dean can’t ignore. He grins slowly and licks his lips, tugging Cas even closer and grinding their hips together, feeling a thrill as Cas’ jaw drops and his eyes flutter shut. Dean’s voice is rough when he speaks.

“Yeah….Already late….What should we do with the time…?”

Cas giggles and opens his eyes, looking down at the boy he’d confessed his love to not even a week ago- the boy who he’d shared everything with, had countless sleepovers and helped cheat on algebra 2 tests, had been saved from bullies and his parents, and had helped escape from major fights whenever Dean started something to save Sammy- the boy who was his best friend.

“I can think of a few things Dean…”

Cas grins again and leans down to kiss Dean once more, thinking that this was possibly the best excuse to miss his Econ class, ever.


	2. End of a Long Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst. Lots and lots of it. No happy ending.

The blinding light left spots in his vision, as if Dean had been staring at the sun too long, and they danced across his eyes for a few moments. He blinked them away, scrubbing at his eyes and calling out to his brother with a hoarse voice.

“Sammay?!”

Sam stirred nearby, blood flowing down from a hidden cut somewhere on his scalp, trickling slowly down his forehead, but he grunts a response, his voice strained and tired.

“Dean.”

They seem to realize at the same moment what was happening, and almost in unison looked up at the open sky, dull gray and overcast with clouds, the air dead still as pieces of what appeared to be ash fell from the clouds. Dean put his hand out and caught the first bit, a fluttering piece of ash, charcoal gray that turned to dust at the impact of hitting his shaking out stretched hand.

“W…what…?”

Dean stared at the dust in the center of his hand in confusion until he heard Sam’s cracking voice speak up, pain lacing through it as he spoke.

“D…Dean…!”

 

Dean’s head snapped up from the miniscule pile of dust in the palm of his hand to his brother’s face again, but Sam wasn’t looking at him, his horrified face was trained on something to the left of Dean. Dean turns, his heart clenching in his chest in fear, the look on Sam’s pale drawn face enough for Dean to know something wasn’t right.

…and something wasn’t right…at all.

A crater in the middle of the earth stood like a massive wound in the ground not fifty feet from them, pushed up brown dirt and misplaced grass strewn around the hole in a twenty foot radius, the impact of whatever hit showing that it hit hard. There was a broken water main, possibly one that led to one of the nearby neighborhoods, as they seemed to stand in the middle of a field at the edge of a sprawling suburban development, grass and weeds brown and green sprouting up around them. The cascade of water came down near the crater, some of the water falling down into the sloping hole, the rest puddling around the outside of the crater, slowly building into a standing puddle on the dry earth. Sam stands up, shakily taking a step toward the crater. Dean stands as well, lower lip trembling in something that could be fear or aprehension or worry, he can’t tell.

His left leg screams at him when he puts weight on it, but he ignores it, the taste of ash in the air thicker as he walks, then stumbles, then straight out runs to the edge of the crater, his heart thudding out ’ NO NO NO NO’ in his chest louder and louder the closer he gets. Sam is on his heels, but Dean scrambles up the edge of the small hill of pushed up dirt and grass first, and teeters on the edge, feeling something inside him cry out, a childlike whimper of pain at the sight before him.

At the bottom of the crater, lying in such a peaceful pose you could almost believe he was asleep, except…except for the ash. The ash that was in the air surrounded him, charcoal smeared on the dirt, obscured and washed away in pieces by shifting earth or the falling water from the broken pipe…but it was plain as day to Dean.

Wings. Great, giant black wings etched in ash across the ground. The dead air mocked him as he tried to speak, blood taste thick in the back of his throat as he chokes out the word he doesn’t want to say, doesn’t want to admit to himself.

“…..Cas.”

The angel lay at the bottom of the crater, eyes shut, arms motionless at his sides, one leg bent just slightly, and his coat flared out behind him like wind caught it, almost in a mockery of life, which was so obviously, painfully lacking from him now. The sound Dean makes then is inhuman, a clash between a wail and a scream, as he tripped and fell down the sloping decline to the bottom of the crater.

“Cas!..NO-nonono…Cas.. com’on man, wake up Cas!”

Dean knelt beside the angel’s body, hands shaking as he hesitated to touch him, almost as if he was afraid of breaking some kind of spell; as if by touching him it would confirm what Dean already knew but was absolutely terrified to admit: Castiel, their angel, was dead.

“C…cas….”

Dean’s voice comes out in a whimper as he touches the angel’s cheek, the stubble brushing over his finger pads and yanking a sob from Dean, which seems to bring everything into focus for him, and Dean can’t stop himself as he grabs at the stupid trenchcoat he’d come to love so much, and gathers Cas into his arms, rocking back and forth in a muddy puddle that was filling the bottom of the crater slowly from the fountain of water that was the only sound in the silent, lazy summer afternoon. The only sound other than the broken sobs and intermittent wails of ‘NOOOOOO!’ that came from Dean’s throat, unbidden by the hunter.

Sam sat at the top of the pile of dirt that made the edge of the impact crater, tears silently streaming from his eyes as he watched his older brother come apart at the seams, clutching to the lifeless body of their angel.

The angel Dean never got to tell the truth of his emotions to.

Dean presses his lips to Castiel’s chapped ones, tasting the all too human coppery tang of blood and whimpering as his trembling fingers trace the cheekbone, the crow’s feet at the corners of those too blue eyes he’ll never see stare at him again.

“Cas….I love you…p..please….”

Dean clings to the angel for hours, until long after the sun sets, until all the ash settles like dirty snow over the landscape, until Sam finally pulls him away from the shell that no longer held the angel Dean had fallen in love with. Dean doesn’t remember getting into the impala, sitting shivering in wet and muddy clothes, hands wrapped white knuckled around a silk blue tie. He doesn’t remember Sam putting him to bed that night, his brother’s soft ‘I’m so sorry, Dean’ does nothing for him, as he doesn’t hear it.

Dean falls asleep that night with only one thing in his mind, a replay of Castiel’s smile over and over again, as he breathes in the angel’s scent of fallen rain and ozone from the last scrap of too blue he has to cling to, and….just maybe…he thinks he can just hear a rough gravel voice say, in a gentle whisper, ‘Dean, it’s okay…it’ll be ok’ as he drifts into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Fuck Me, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn with very....VERY little plot.

“....You want me to do WHAT with you?”

The look on Dean's face was incredulous as he stared up at the standing angel, who, as usual, was looking impassively down at Dean.

“There is no need to yell Dean, I am right here.”

Dean grunted and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the annoying nerd angel again, his eyebrows still high and knitted together.

“Cas....I don't know about this man, I mean- I know you want to experience human stuff, but-”

“You stated before that it is important for me to relate to human beings. I am trying to relate. My vessel only feels attraction to males, therefore it seems prudent that I choose a male to experience this with.”

Dean blushes and looks anywhere but up at Castiel, choosing to stare at the threadbare carpet of the hotel they were in instead. He was seated on the edge of the bed he'd slept restlessly in the night before, unable to sleep while he knew that Sam and Bobby where off researching where the hell a Dragon would be, and possibly stumbling blindly into it's lair. Dean had the only weapon they knew of that could kill it in his possession, and wouldn't you know it, Dean had managed to break it trying to get the sword out of the stone. 'Some King I am...'. He had been instructed to come and sleep, rest off for the fight they knew was going to happen, probably sooner rather than later. Just as Dean was closing his eyes, Cas had appeared, startling the boxer clad man out of his twilight sleep. 

“DEAN.”

Fuck.

“What Cas?”

“...Will you accept my proposal?”

“Will I...FUCK CAS, that's-...you didn't ask me to fucking marry you, man, you asked me to fuck you!”

“I believe the term I used was sexual intercourse.”

“YEAH, fucking!”

“If that is how you would prefer I refer to the act of sexual intercourse, fine. Will you fuck me, Dean?”

Dean swears he's going to die of embarrassment...or maybe just fucking shoot himself in the head because that couldn't be much worse than this.

“Please...?”

That wasn't a word he heard from Cas often, and it sounded foreign in the angel's gravelly voice. Dean looks up finally and catches the always startling blue gaze, no, stare, from the angel. Dean swears that Castiel's eyes are only that blue because there's a heavenly being inside that meat-suit, that's the only explanation for someone having eyes that fucking blue. They were like vibrant paint straight out of the tube, primary and liquid. Dean swallows thickly as he feels his body stir, like it always did, the damn traitor. Never in his life had he EVER felt anything for a man, and he supposed on some level he still didn't because Cas wasn't really a man, was he? He was an angel, in a man shaped vessel. That totally didn't count.  
But right then Dean felt something shift inside him, and he supposed he had already decided to give in to the angel's request before now, he was just finally realizing it.

“I...Cas I can't...not-...I can't do that.”

Castiel's face falls slightly and he looks down, brows furrowing and his lips pursing a bit.

“...oh...”

“I mean!....I can't do what you want me to..but-...I'll help you experience....as much as I can. Okay Cas?”

“...Yes Dean. That will suffice.”

Castiel sits down on the edge of the bed and then turns to look at him, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Will this be anything like with the Pizza Man?”

….Oh brother.

~

An hour later after explaining to Cas countless times that in order to do this he would need to be naked, Dean managed to get the angel to lie back on the bed with his knees bent, baring his ass to the world. Or just to Dean, as he was the only one who would see this. The deadbolt, chain lock, and chair under the door (just in case) made sure of that. The last thing Dean wanted was to have his brother or Bobby or anyone else walk in and see him like this. Doing unspeakable things to an ANGEL for chrissakes. He was sure that if he wasn't going to hell for the dozen other reasons he could think of, this would probably get him sent there. 'Again'. He grimaces but looks up when he hears Cas speak.

“Dean...? Are you alright?”

Dean blushes and nods quickly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Castiel....his angel...was naked on the bed. Dean licks his lips slowly while he takes in the long, lean muscled form. He had never seen Castiel completely naked. Sure he'd seen the vessel's chest before, when Cas had carved a sigil on himself to banish all the angels nearby, including himself- but Dean had never seen the angel completely naked before. He crawls onto the bed and hovers above Cas, eyes roving over expanses of soft beige skin, the scars on his chest and stomach from the sigil slowly turning white from the red angry marks they hard obviously started out as. Even with his knees bent like this, Cas' hip bones stood up just a little bit, and when he breathed Dean could see just the hint of a ribcage. It was remarkable, to think that there was a an angel inside of this body. Cas speaks again.

“Dean.”

Dean's eyes flick up from Cas' stomach, where he'd been about to 'glance' at the angel's cock, up to Castiel's eyes. They were looking at him with that open look, the look at that said 'I trust you Dean'. The look that drove Dean insane. No one should trust him, not really. He wasn't really worthy of that, considering all this was his fault. He broke the first seal. He was the reason they had been in that giant mess in the first place, that Sammy had gone to hell and come back soulless- and even now that he had his soul back, he would have to live with that fucking wall in his head that could come down at any minute.

A flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye brought Dean back to the present, out of his dark memories and cruel thoughts about himself, back to the task at hand. Castiel's smooth fingers brush up Dean's bare arm, sending shivers through his body. Cas' lips quirk slightly, the hint of a smile, and Dean frowns before batting the angel's hand away.

“You said you wanted to experience sex right?”

“Yes. Sexual intercourse. With you.”

“...ah....” Dean clears his throat and coughs into one hand before blushing and shaking his head.  
“Yeah....Okay....One thing Cas.”

“Yes Dean?”

“You can't tell anyone about this.”

“....I understand Dean.”

Dean nods and then scoots closer to Cas, until he's half sitting-half lying, his legs bent and to one side of himself, leaning over Cas with the support of one arm stiff and straight beside Cas' head. Cas turns his head to look at Dean again and Dean can hear a soft sigh escape the angel's lips as Dean starts this insane journey by gently touching Castiel's stomach with the hand not supporting himself. Dean blushes at this, but continues, trailing his hand over Cas' body, slowly but surely touching the bare skin, fingers rippling over the sigil scars, tracing the outlines of collarbones and the muscles that show up on the angel's stomach with his breath hitches.

Dean chuckles somewhere in the back of his throat and looks up at Cas, smiling.

“What is so funny Dean?”

“Nothin' Cas.....how does this feel?”

“Odd...the sensations are odd but not unpleasant. Please continue.”

Dean nods and obliges the angel's polite request, gently trailing his fingers and palm down to brush over one of Cas' hips, gripping it slightly so that his fingers wrap around the angel's waist slightly, which brings a gasp from Cas' lips.

“Ah!”

“Did that hurt?”

“N-no...please continue...”

Cas' breathing was starting to pick up a little, and his normal sallow complexion was turning shades of soft pinks and reds. Dean slides his hand down further, dipping into the hollow between thigh and pelvis, tickling at the seam there, which elicits a soft moan from the angel. Dean could feel his body warming up as well, the sounds Cas was making starting to affect him in the best, and worst, ways.  
He rakes his nails down the inside of Castiel's thigh, making him arch his back and let out a whimper, his breath hitching and hips bucking just slightly. Dean cocks an eyebrow at Castiel, but the angel can't do anything more than gape at Dean for a second.

“This...these sensations are good Dean, please continue...”

Dean nods and slides his hand back up, palm rubbing over the flat stomach and heaving chest, then back down, over the other hip, gripping in the same spot and getting the same reaction, just a little quicker this time. Finally Dean has worked up the courage to actually look at the angel's cock- and it's his turn to blush furiously. Castiel is hardening, and as Dean watches his cock throbs to attention, slowly rising and then coming to rest against Cas' low belly, red and almost purple at the tip. 'Well, Jimmy was obviously Jewish....', Dean thinks to himself and has to look away because it's just a bit too embarrassing to stare at another dude's junk like that. Castiel makes a displeased sound and Dean looks back to see him staring down at his own penis.

“Dean...why is it doing that?”

“That...That's a normal reaction Cas...it's fine.”

“That organ is supposed to swell like this?”

“Uh...” Dean clears his throat and nods. “Y-yeah Cas...it is...If you get turned on.”

“...Then you have turned me on, Dean?”

Dean flushes even more and pushes Cas to lie back down, speaking quickly.  
“I guess so Cas,...um.... lie still.”

Cas tilts his head slightly to look at Dean, eyes unblinking, face impassive as always. Dean takes a deep breath and then slides his hands down from Cas' shoulders back down his stomach, another sigh from Cas, until they hover right at Cas' pelvis. Dean licks his lips and then shifts, crawling on the bed until he's between Cas' legs. He gently pushes on the inside of Castiel's thighs, spreading them wider, which brings him a look of curiosity from the angel, but no verbal protest. Dean sighs, internally glad he's the one Cas asked to do this- if Cas had just gone out to a bar and picked up some random dude, Dean's sure he would have been raped. He's just so...compliant. Dean feels his body stir again at the mental image of some random guy railing Cas, but at the same time his stomach turns, a sour taste in his mouth. This was HIS angel- no one else was going to teach Cas about this but him.

Renewed with this since of ownership, Dean looks down again and summons all his courage to break down his own 'gross dude' mentality about touching another guy's cock. He wraps his hand around the base, a good firm grip like he liked to use on himself, and to his surprise Castiel's head snaps up, his eyes wide with shock.

“What...what are you doing Dean?”

“Cas..didn't you watch the pizza man...I mean...that porn?”

“Yes, but this did not happen.”

Dean thinks back and remembers something about ass slapping...perhaps there was only kissing and spanking in the porno that far- maybe they didn't get this far. Well, no time like the present.  
Dean's voice is husky when he speaks again, shushing Castiel.

“Just trust me Cas.”

“I do Dean.”

His heart clenches slightly at the honesty and admiration he hears in the angel's voice, and suddenly it's not about just teaching Cas something and letting him experience a human experience- it's about making Castiel feel good. Dean slowly slides his hand up, works his palm over the tip, and then back down, watching as Cas' breath hitches and his chest heaves up and down, his hands balling around handfuls of the sheet at the new sensations.

“How is it Cas?”

“It is...a...ah....good, Dean. It feels good.”

“Good Cas...”

Dean reaches to the side and above Cas for the lube he keeps in the nightstand for his own sexual pleasure- lotion was alright, but it tended to get used up quickly and lube just felt better when you were pleasuring yourself. He pops the cap with one hand and drops just a dew droplets onto the tip of Cas' cock, bringing sharp intakes of breath from the angel, which Dean couldn't help but laugh at. It was almost endearing hearing and watching Castiel's first experience. And it was a little bit of a power trip to be the one giving it to him. Dean recaps the bottle and puts it on the bed beside him, knowing he'll need easy access to it in just a minute. Dean continues his work, sliding his hand to the base and back up slowly, tracing his thumb around the head this time and watching with wide eyes as Cas' back arches, bringing his hips up slightly. Dean was finding this better than any porno he'd ever seen, and while it was embarrassing to admit, he was getting pretty fucking hard himself in his boxers listening to Castiel's soft pants and moans.

“Ah-..ngh...Dean...Dean...”

“Yes Cas?” Dean slides his hand down again and on the way back twists his wrist, pushes gently with his thumb along the underside of Cas' cock to the head. Cas throws his head back and a soft cry escapes his plump lips. Dean grins.

“Cas, what is it?”

“Ah!..D....Dean!..It feels...”

“Yes?”

“It feels so good Dean....please, don't stop...”

Dean's mouth goes dry and he grabs the bottle again, quickly slicking up two fingers. He brings his left hand back to Cas' cock, but lets his right hand travel down, one finger gently circling Castiel's entrance. Cas blushes, actually fucking blushes, and shivers, his thighs clenching as Dean gently pushes at the entrance.

“Lemme know if it hurts, kay Cas?”

Castiel can only nod, his eyes hooded with lust, staring up at Dean from the bed. Dean nods back and then pushes, the slick finger sliding inside, accompanied by a hissing exhalation from the angel, who shuts his eyes tight.

“Dean...”

“Does it hurt Cas?”

“N-no...just...it feels weird...”

“...relax Cas...”

“mm....”

Dean holds his finger still, barely inside Castiel, just to the first knuckle. He moves his left hand again, thinking maybe a distraction from the strange intrusion will help Cas move past it. He grins, proud that is instinct was right when Castiel moans again, a little louder this time, his back arching up again into Dean's hand every time he moves it back down the shaft. Castiel was an impressive size, above average but not so long or thick that he was porn star material. Dean found that as he worked his fist over Cas' cock that he actually liked how it looked. Different than his own, yes, but not scary or ugly like he thought it might be. It was actually beautiful- attached to a beautiful creature, who was currently arching up into his hand with every stroke like he couldn't get enough.

“Dean!”

“Yeah Cas?”

“I...I need something more....This body...it ...it wants more...”

Dean cocks a brow and then smiles wickedly, before sliding his finger slowly but surely all the way inside of Cas, who lets out a cry in response. Dean takes that as a good sign and slowly starts thrusting his finger in and out of Cas' tight hole. 'Shit...no wonder gay guys like this....Cas is so fucking tight....' His cock jerks at the thought of fucking Cas, and he has to think about something else for the moment because it's so hot he's afraid he might just come in his shorts. 'Vampires-Demons-Hellhounds-Ms.McGreary my Fifth Grade English Teacher....' Dean's cock softens some and he sighs softly, and is able to focus on the task at hand again. He had an angel to bring to heaven. The thought makes Dean grin again, and he shoves his finger back inside Castiel a bit harshly, bringing a loud yelping cry from the man. Dean freezes, eyes wide.

“Cas?”, he croaks. “You okay?”

“Yes! Yes...Dean...I-I am f-ahhnn....Don't stop, please...don't stop...”

Dean bites his lower lip, god this was hot, and continues, one hand sliding up and down Castiel's cock, the other working him from the inside. He experiments with angles, crooking his finger and sliding it in, or pressing down or up when he drags it out. On one such crooked angle he brushes something inside of Cas and almost has a heart attack when the angel's entire body bucks, back and hips arching off the bed, hands balling fistfuls of sheet, his thighs clenching as well as the ring of muscle around Dean's finger threatening to cut off his circulation from how tight it cinches down. Dean's eyes are still wide as Castiel shudders, his body relaxing again, and he can finally speak after the incredibly loud cry that came rocketing out of his throat just seconds ago.

“Wha....Dean, what was that?”

“...I ….I think that was your prostate Cas.”

“My what?”

“It's ...um...it's a bundle of nerves.”

“....can you do that again?”

Dean blushes and tries to do it again, succeeding after only a second, sending Cas into another unintelligible screaming fit, his body shaking once more. Dean blushes even darker but does it again, and again, and again, sliding a second finger inside of Cas after Cas relaxes on one of the down strokes, which earns him a keening whine from Castiel, his hips bucking up to bring Dean's fingers even deeper. Dean gulps and works his hand on Cas' cock for a minute, before the angel is arching his hips up, trying to get Dean to move his hand again, but Dean is a little freaked out, not wanting to hurt Cas with both fingers inside him.

“D...Dean...”

“Yeah Cas?” 

Dean feels like his voice is too small but he can't seem to make it louder. Castiel's voice on the other hand, is husky and deep, deeper than usual as if that was possible. It makes Dean's chest ache and he wants to do whatever it is that Cas is gonna ask him, just to hear that voice speak again, cry out in pleasure once more.

“I need it...do it again...please Dean...please.”

Dean bites his lower lip and then starts moving his hand again, the fingers crooking at just the right angle. Cas immediately responded, bucking his hips up into Dean's hands, the cry escaping his mouth spurring Dean to continue, faster and harder than before.

“AHHHh!! D-Dean!”

Dean finds a feral growl escaping his throat before he can stop it, both of his hands speeding up, going hard and faster, longing to hear Castiel come completely undone. With each thrust of his hand Cas' cries out, and soon it starts to sound different, heavy racking sobs breaking out of Cas' chest. Dean's eyes widen and he stops moving his hands, pausing to look down at Castiel, who sits up on his elbows, his eyes wide and blurry, tears streaming down his cheeks. Dean's heart stops, his jaw dropping, and his entire body frozen.

“D...Dean why...why did you stop?”

“Cas?! You're fucking crying!”

Cas touches his cheeks, looking at the wetness on his fingers.

“So I am...I-”

He shivers, and rolls his hips up onto Dean's hand again, his head falling back as another keening wail escapes his lips. Dean sits up, eyes wide with worry, but the look on Cas' face when he looks back up is anything but pain. Dean swallows hard, watching his angel look up at him with the most predatory look he'd ever seen.

“D..Dean...please....I need it....fuck me, please...”

Cas doesn't have to ask twice, the foul word on his lips shocking Dean forward and the minute he finishes his sentence Dean thrusts his fingers back inside him, deep. Cas arches his back, breathing fast, his ribcage expanding with each movement of Dean's fingers, thrusting deep inside of him. Dean joins in his other hand, firmly wrapping his fingers around the shaft again, thrusting and pumping his hands in unison, his own cock hardening with each cry and yelp, groan and scream coming from the angel beneath him. Dean's entire being aches to see Cas come, to see his angel fall apart at the seams beneath him.  
It doesn't take long before Cas' is breaking, crumbling under Dean's hands. Dean can't help himself, doesn't want to stop himself any longer, and he leans down and captures Castiel's lips in his, scissoring his fingers and then crooking them deep inside of the angel.

That's all it takes- the minute Dean's lips touch Castiel's, the angel stiffens, his back arching up, his eyes flaring wide, pupils almost gone they're so small. A high pitched, angelic sound shrieks out of Castiel's lips as his very first human experience washes over him, carrying the angel up and away, cascading down in pieces as waves of pleasure break over his body. 

All Dean sees is a flash of white lip and a sound like a chorus of sweet voices, and then he's waking up on his back, eyes staring up at the water stained ceiling. Suddenly a pair of bright blue eyes are hovering over him, attached to the face of his angel, eyebrows knitted together in worry, mouth turned down in a frown.

“Dean? Are you alright?”

Dean blushes, and sits up very slowly on his elbows, feeling his body from one end to the other, every inch for the first time in....forever- and not one piece of him hurt. Not one ache, twinge or cramp. It was like he was brand new, like he had been washed clean of all his past transgressions because not only did Dean's body feel new- but it was like his entire being was new, clean, white and pure. Even his soul, everything felt...perfect.

Dean slowly sits up all the way and then turns to look at Castiel, breathing easy for the first time since returning from hell.

“Yeah....I'm...I'm alright Cas.”

Castiel smiles, a real, broad, genuine smile.

“...Good....Thank you Dean.”

Deans nods slowly and then looks up at Castiel again, looking at those lips he barely had a chance to kiss before...He was going to change that here and now.

“Cas...you want to...um...you want to...experience something else?”

Castiel tilts his head to one side and then smiles gently.

“Yes Dean...teach me...”

Dean smirks and leans in, his voice quiet as he whispers against Castiel's full, consistently dry lips.

“Well...let me teach you about kissing...”


	4. Three Times Castiel kisses Dean...and one time Dean kisses Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> really short short.

The first time Castiel kissed Dean was in the Green Room, right after Dean slugged him and practically broke his hand. Every nerve ending in Dean’s body zinged with energy, and a coil of heat wound up inside of him, a spring ready to snap at any moment.

The second time Castiel kissed Dean was the night that Dean took Cas to a brothel. The dancer, Chastity, was screaming and Dean was laughing, but Cas didn’t understand why- so he shut Dean up once they got outside and into the Impala with a kiss. Dean realized that not only has he not laughed that hard in years, he hadn’t felt that turned on by a kiss in years either.

The third time Castiel kissed Dean was in the alleyway, right in the middle of that fight that left him bruised and sore for days. Sam bitched about the bruises, but all Dean could think of was how his lips had tingled, and his stomach had dropped out of existence the moment Castiel’s eyes shifted from his to his lips.

The first time Dean kisses Castiel…it’s the last time he thinks he’ll ever see his friend. The flames from the holy oil lick at his feet, but he can’t feel them, can only feel his hand gripping tight to that trench coat as he grits out, “We can fix this, Cas!”

Dean wasn’t expecting the growl that came back, “It’s not broken, Dean.”

The kiss is more a mash of lips than anything, a broken sob coming from Dean’s lips as he whispers, “Dammit Cas…” and Cas shoves him away, too blue eyes wide and terrified. His voice is so raw it makes Dean’s hair stand on end.

“You have to run now, Dean, RUN.”

So Dean does.


	5. creepyangelonyourshoulder: can i haz some destiel please?

It wasn’t how Castiel imagined the first time going with Dean…not after months, years, of figuring out what the feelings he had been developing for the human finally were.

He hadn’t expected it to happen in the backseat of Dean’s impala, half dressed, rushed, because Sam was due back from dinner in less than an hour.

It wasn’t what he’d expected, cold leather seats and too warm air stifling them both, but as Dean laid him out on the bench seat, callused hands tracing over his the side of his face, pulling his tie off from around his neck, Castiel couldn’t bring himself to care.

Who needed flowers and chocolates and romance, like the things he’d seen in the movies he’d watched? Why would Castiel choose those things, meaningless, human trivialities, over the way Dean wouldn’t stop staring at him like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered?

Castiel gives in to the emotions rushing through him, lets Dean take the lead completely, and enjoys every hitch of breath, every sensation that rolls over him. He comes for the first time with a hand pressed to the ceiling, another white knuckled around a handful of Dean’s hair, as Dean swallows around him, stares up at him with wide curious green eyes.

“That good huh?” Dean smirks, voice teasing as he pulls back and licks his lips. It’s only then that Castiel realizes he’d screamed, the sound utterly foreign, so he hadn’t even registered it as coming from his vessel’s lips.

Castiel feels his face grow red, and Dean smiles even wider, leaning in to kiss him, and Cas tastes bitter salt, smells bleach and inhales deeply, surprised at the taste. Dean moans into the kiss, and Castiel feels his body heat up again.

Dean undresses him quickly from then on, first yanking off his shoes, and then his belt, followed by pants and underwear. Castiel lays back at Dean’s instruction, planes of his stomach bare to the sticky air in the backseat, as Dean touches him again, bends one of his knees up, and Cas gasps at the brush against a place he’d never ventured before.

“D-Dean?” he shivers, looking up at the human he trusted with everything- had died for, fell for, fallen in love with.

“Shhh, baby, I got yah….,” Dean soothes, and leans in to kiss Cas as he slides the first finger home. Cas whimpers, but after that, it’s smooth sailing, Castiel opening up so sweet under Dean’s fingers, he’d swear the angel’d done this before.

But he knows he’s the first to ever touch Cas….after that filthy demon Meg.

“Ready?”

“For….what, Dean?”

“Cas…I’m gonna,….you know...” Dean makes an obscene motion with his hips, and Castiel blinks then a smile darts over his face.

“OH!…Intercourse with penetration….yes, I believe I am ready.”

Dean stutters and flushes, shaking his head as he leans in to kiss the angel once more. Positioning himself in the cramped backseat is hard, but Dean manages, after bending his angel almost in half beneath him. The first push is slow, Dean pausing to watch for any sign of discomfort from Cas- but there’s nothing, just a calm expression as Cas stares up at him.

Dean slides into the angel in a smooth glide, gritting his teeth and cursing under his breath at how tight Cas is around him.

“…f..fuck….”

“…Yes Dean….I do believe that is what we are doing.”

Dean pauses, completely sheathed inside the angel, and looks up at him, eyes wide with disbelief.

Had Cas just made a joke?

Castiel stares back at him with a straight face for a moment, before the corner of his lip twitches, and Dean lets out a surprised laugh, shaking his head ans smiling.

“God, I love you,” he says, the words just slipping out like he’d said them a million times before.

Both of them freeze in that moment, and Castiel reaches up to grip Dean’s chin, force the human to look at him. Dean stares into eyes the color of a summer sky, so blue they hurt sometimes to even glance at, and knows that the creature staring back at him is infinitely more than what he can see in front of him, what he can touch and possess.

“Dean….I love you as well.”

The words send a ripple up Dean’s spine, and he shudders, leaning in to kiss Cas again, hard, their lips sealing together on a broken moan as Dean rocks, starting up a slow rhythm.

No….this wasn’t how Cas imagined their first time.

But as Dean grunts his name and thrusts one more time inside of him, and he experiences the second orgasm of his entire life, Castiel realizes that this?

This is far better than he could have ever imagined it being.


	6. georg-prime submitted: destiel, real life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they asked for: Real-life Cas and Dean somehow (do I have to explain ? I understand myself anyway).
> 
> “Cas” is a poet openly homosexual, “Dean” a former convict (for minor crimes like stole some car) who travel around the country and who usually claims to be a 100% straight…
> 
> Or just do what you want ^^
> 
> Thank you~~ !

  
He had hired Dean on as an assistant, to take on the things around his house that Castiel would often forget to do like water the lawn, do the dishes,…feed the cat. He would get caught up in a world of poetry, of imagination and imagery, metaphors and smilies, and soon two days would have passed with Cas barely stopping to eat or drink or use the bathroom.

Dean had been with him for six months before Castiel noticed the way the other man would sometimes look at him. When he’d first hired Dean, he’d asked if the man had a problem with homosexuals.

“No,” he’d drawled with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “long as they don’t try n’touch me, ‘m fine with ‘em.”

That had been the end of it, for six months. Dean stayed in the servants quarters of the large house Castiel had bought, a self sufficient cottage in the back yard, which was really a half acre of trees, black berry bushes that grew wild and rampantly out of control, and a large duck pond that was clogged with weeds thanks to Castiel’s neglect. It had improved ten fold since Dean had started working on it, as had almost everything in Castiel’s life.

Dishes were no longer piling up in the sink, and his house was always spotless, not a piece of crumpled paper left on the floor for longer than a day. His shirts were always pressed and hung in his closet, and whenever he wanted company, all he had to do was find Dean by wandering around the house until he spotted the man, usually cleaning or fixing something, often shirtless in the summer months.

It was fall now, and the leaves were changing, and so was Castiel’s mood. He was getting lonely, as the days grew shorter, and his inspiration for work slowed to a halt.

The first night he brings a man home, he doesn’t see Dean for three days afterward. When he shows up on the third day, neither say anything about Dean’s sudden disappearance.

The second time, Dean is there in the morning, fixing something in the kitchen when Castiel sees his friend to the front door. They say nothing to one another, but Cas sees Dean staring at him out of the corner of his eye…sees Dean’s hand clenched around the wrench in his hand.

The third time, Dean corners Castiel in the front entry way after his companion had left in the morning, and shoves his employer up against the wall, breaking a startled gasp out of Castiel’s lips.

“Dean?!”

Dean holds Cas there for a moment, eyes narrowed, before he steps away and lowers his gaze, looking away.

“…m’sorry Cas.”

“…What…what in god’s name was that?”

“I don’t!….I just….don’t like them..comin’ in here…”

“What..my friends?”

Dean scoffs, sneering up at Castiel.

“Friends don’t do what you did last night with that guy, Cas.”

Castiel frowns, eyes narrowed instantly.

“….You told me you had no problem with homosexuals Dean….if….if this is going to be a problem, I can cut you a severance check today.”

His voice is cool and collected as he speaks, and by the end of his sentence Dean’s eyes are saucer wide, mouth slackened.

“What?!..NO!…No that’s not…Cas- you don’t-…DAMMIT.”

Dean scrubs his hands through his short hair, sending it in all different directions.

Castiel crosses his arm over his chest and shifts his weight.

“What Dean? What don’t I get?”

Dean stalks away from Castiel, forcing the poet to chase him into the library, bookshelves filled to the brim with tomes upon tomes of old poetry in between expensive, meaningless nick knacks.

Dean stops then, suddenly, and turns around; his grass green eyes stare past the tortoiseshell framed glasses into Castiel’s own shocked wide blue ones. Dean licks his plush pink lips, and how did Castiel never notice those before now?, and sighs heavily, before lurching forward and grabbing either side of Castiel’s face, pushing in to crash their lips together.

The kiss sends waves of heat through Cas’ body, startling him with how quickly he wants Dean, how badly the other man affects him.

He pulls back, but Dean keeps his hands around his shoulders, hanging on and staring at Cas as he tries to catch his breath.

“D….Dean?…I tho…thought….,” Castiel stutters, staring up at the other man in shock.

Dean blinks, then lets out a soft laugh, a smirk coming to his lips.

“Yeah…me too Cas….guess m’ not quite straight enough….”

“For….?”

“…For not being jealous when someone else gets to have you…taste these lips….,” he says, voice low and rough as he leans in again. This time the kiss is softer, but quickly gets out of control again, both men panting.

“Fuck, Cas…,” Dean gasps, “your lips…..so pretty….”

Cas grins then, reaching up to push his glasses back up his nose before sinking to his knees in front of Dean, hands trailing down the other man’s warm torso, hooking on his belt.

“….Want to see what other uses my lips have, Dean?”

Dean can only swallow hard and gasp “Hell yeah,” before Cas gets the buckle open, grinning up at Dean with a chuckle.

~

After that…things were less organized around the house. Often, dishes would be left in the sink for a day or two, and papers weren’t cleaned up right away. The slugs ate the remaining summer squash, and the leaves blanketed half the yard, before either men saw the need to leave the bedroom for more than a few minutes at a time to grab food, water, or clean sheets.

Strangely though, Castiel couldn’t remember ever being more satisfied with his hired help.


	7. cocoraptor submitted:   Destiel.  : ]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another of my 'send me a .gif get a story' line.

  
Dean had been sitting for an hour on the park bench. Sammy would call what he was doing brooding, and Dean would smack him and call him a bitch for it. He wasn’t brooding, he was just…thinking.

It had been 10 hours since the angel had kissed him, pressed his lips against Dean’s and stolen it without permission.

10 hours, for Dean to sit alone, and think, and ponder, and fucking worry, as the moment he’d responded, the second he’d moaned and opened up into the kiss, Castiel had pulled back with a gasp, and fled in a rush of wind and a flutter of wings.

Fucking dicks with wings.

Dean really wanted to hate him for that, for pulling a stunt like that, but he just….couldn’t.

So he spent 10 hours sitting up, thinking things through, wondering if Castiel would come back, and ignoring Sam as his brother snarked at him for not even sleeping over a simple kiss.

“Wasn’t just a kiss Sammy!,” he’d barked at his brother, as Sam researched yet another case, something about a soul stealing witch. “…This is different.”

“You’re right Dean, it is….this is Cas.”

“…I know Dude.”

“….So go call him.”

“He’s not answering his phone.”

“…not like that, idiot.”

Dean frowns for a moment, then picks up his coat and heads out the door, taking a walk. He ends up at a nearby park, sitting on a bench and watching kids run around the playground, absentmindedly hoping no one thought he was a pedophile, that was the last thing he needed at the moment.

The hunter sighs and tries to quiet his mind, pushing away his thoughts until just one remains, centered in his mind like it was illuminated in his mind’s eye, all focus on just one word.

CASTIEL

No sooner than he’d thought that one simple word, that Dean heard it. The rustle of wings, to his left, and a soft sigh of air.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to stare at the dark hared angel, who has the decency to look at least slightly abashed when he looks back at Dean.

“….Hi.”

“…Hello Dean.”

There’s silence for a moment before Dean scoffs and sighs, shaking his head.

“Why are we doing this, Cas man?…Makes everything so much more complicated…can’t we just…forget it happened?”

“…I do not know about you, Dean…..but I cannot forget that.”

He turns his head to look at Dean, face serious, eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.

“I have learned and forgotten more in my time about the universe and everything it contains than you will ever know….and yet….I cannot forget you. Or that kiss.”

“…So….what do we do then, smarty pants?”

“….We try it again?”

Dean frowns.

“And how does that make this less complicated?”

“…I was not thinking about the complexity of the situation Dean-“

“No? What then, Cas? What could possibly be more important than how fucked up this-” he gestures between the two of them, “could get if we do this?”

“….I….was just thinking that I would like to kiss you again…and not leave this time when you kiss me back.”

Dean blinks, eyes widening as he stares back at the angel.

“…You know this could go really bad, right?”

“…How did you put it when you were talking about those…reality shows?….’I couldn’t care less about that shit.’ “

Dean stares at Cas with raised eyebrows for a moment before he realizes that Cas is serious, as usual, and lets out a harsh laugh, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“…Jesus….alright….c’mon Cas…”

“…Where are we going Dean?”

“….S’one thing to defile an angel….s’another to do it in a public playground in front of kids, Cas.”

“…Oh.”


	8. ANONYMOUS ASKED: MAY I REQUEST: DESTIEL, HURT/COMFORT. CAS IS EITHER PHYSICALLY HURT OR EMOTIONALLY TRAUMATIZED OR BOTH, AND DEAN MAKES HIM FEEL BETTER.

The whimper from the angel is enough to make Dean stop what he’s doing instantly, hands hovering over the bandage he’d been working on wrapping around Castiel’s broken wing.  
“Cas?”  
There was the tiniest tremor of the strong muscles in Cas’ back, and then a shaky inhale of breath.  
“….m’fine Dean….,” Castiel whispered, voice strained in obvious pain. Dean frowns and sighs softly, standing up and walking over to Bobby’s desk, pulling out the good whiskey and a pair of glasses from a drawer.  
“Dean?”  
Cas blinks over at the hunter, eyebrows raised as he watches Dean walk over, and sit down beside him on the worn in couch, alcohol placed on the small table in front of them, that also held a faded white steel first aid kit.  
“It’ll help with the pain, Cas.”  
“….Okay…,” he says, watching with wide blue eyes as Dean pours out a full glass.  
The first sip burns, the second sip a little less,…and by his second glass, Cas is feeling…much better. Remarkably so.  
Giggly….so.  
Dean realizes that the only thing he dislikes more than a big baby in a trenchcoat is a giggly 14 year old girl in a trenchcoat. A giggly, drunken, handsy 14 year old girl in a trenchcoat.  
“Woah, woah- easy there Cas, watch the hands!”  
“I am, Dean, I am…hehe…watching them….”  
Dean sighs, and for the fifth time since trying to get the angel’s wing wrapped, gently pushes Castiel’s questing hands away from his pants.  
“But…Dean….you said-”  
“I know what I said Cas…but I have to get your wing wrapped!”  
The angel pouts- full out pouts, and Dean can’t help but smile then, watching those big baby blues turn soft with tears.  
“Dean…,” he whimpers again, and Dean sighs, giving in to the angel’s demands. He leans in and wraps a hand around the back of the angel’s neck, pulling him in, and pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. Cas sighs into it, wrapping his arms tight around Dean’s neck. The kiss continues for a long moment until Dean pulls back, chuckling gently and smirking down at his angel.  
“Now can I finish your wing?” Deans asks, chiding gently.  
“….Make it quick…I like….how it makes me feel….”  
“…The booze?”  
“…no….you….your kisses…want more…”  
Dean sighs, knowing that he’d done this by pampering Cas when the angel fell from heaven, when his grace was all but ripped away, and his wings were no longer ethereal but corporeal.  
“Alright, baby…..just, one more minute okay?”  
Dean hurries to finish the wing, callused hands gentle as they move over the feathers, the broken bone set back in place. The bandage only takes a minute to finish, and then Dean puts the medical tape down, and pulls his fluffy lover into his arms, kissing Cas gently.  
“Better?”  
“Mmmm…”  
“Good…..Hey, Cas?”  
“Mm?”  
“How the hell did you end up breaking your wing anyway?”  
There’s silence for a second, then Cas reaches for Dean’s glass of whiskey, downs it in one gulp, and hisses at the burn. He coughs, then looks up at Dean, squinting slightly.  
“Sam bet me that I couldn’t fly off the roof.”  
Dean is quiet for a moment, staring at Cas, but the yell he lets out in the next second makes Sam flinch from his hiding spot out in the junkyard, behind an old volvo.  
Oh, Sam was gonna get it,…if Dean could ever find him in the maze that surrounded Bobby’s house.

….Which is what Sam was praying would see him through to the next day without an ass whooping by his severely pissed off older brother.


	9. BEMUSEDLYBESPECTACLED ASKED: DESTIEL + HYPOTHERMIA, PLEASE?

“Cas, your teeth are freakin’ annoying me,” Dean grouched.  
“I’m s-s-s-orry -D-D-Dean….”  
Dean sighs, Castiel’s chattering teeth honestly the least of his worries, but the only thing he can gripe about that had any hope of changing.  
“….Fine….get over here.”  
Castiel looks up from his position on the other side of the Impala, shivering against the door wrapped in a thin blanket.  
“D-Dean?”  
“…Don’t make me s-say it again angel…just, c’mere….”  
Dean opens up his blanket, a sharp intake of breath at the cold air that instantly chills him to the bone. It had been a bad idea to go on this hunt, but Dean knew that it had to happen, that they needed to stop the wraith from killing anymore people.  
Unfortunately, before they could kill the wraith, a blizzard hit, and Castiel and Dean were completely snowed in, stuck in the middle of a forest, with only a few blankets to keep them warm. Dean had to leave the car off, knowing that they would need the heat later, if they were stuck for more than a day.  
Castiel stares at Dean for a moment, then slides across the bench seat with a sigh and a grumble.  
“…Being human is an inconvenience….”  
Dean smirks and chuckles, wrapping Castiel up in the blanket, and positioning them so they were wrapped around each other, arms around torsos, and legs tangled together under the thin blankets.  
“It can be, Cas…but, there are perks t-too.”  
Cas laughs humorlessly.  
“Hm. R-really?”  
“ ‘Course, C-Cas. There’s lots of stuff.”  
Cas is quiet for a moment, then shifts even closer, nuzzling his cold nose up against Dean’s.  
“….Like what Dean?” He whispers, voice sounding strained,…scared.  
Dean is quiet this time, holding Cas a little closer, then he clears his throat.  
“Like….pie, and…and action m-movies…and rock n’roll….”  
Cas humms softly, curling his hands around the fabric of Dean’s shirt, then spreading his hand of flat against the hardened muscle of his chest.  
“…what else Dean?”  
Dean rubs his hand up and down Cas’ back, leans his face down toward the former angel in his arms, warm breath puffing out over Castiel’s pale skin.  
“…Like..warm chocolate chip cookies…,” Dean says,swallowing thickly as Castiel’s hands slide down his chest, nose pressed harder against his neck.  
“…and?” Cas says, his voice even deeper, like velvet and gravel.  
“and,” Dean clears his throat, shifting slightly as a warmth starts building in his lower belly, Castiel pushing closer the tip of his nose brushing up over his cheek.  
“…um…..and-….”  
Dean stutters, looking down as Cas looks up into his eyes, blue almost swallowed by the black.  
“…and….things like….sex....Dean?”  
Dean’s breath hitches as Cas leans in, their breath mingling together, the car suddenly unbearably hot despite the chill they both were feeling only minutes ago.  
“…Yeah Cas,” Dean croaks, “but….maybe I should show you something else though…”  
“…Like what Dean?” Cas says, voice soft and breathy.  
“…Like kissing…”  
Dean closes the distance between them, the kiss soft and slow, a push of plush lips against chapped, gentle and sweet. Castiel melts into it, responding eagerly, like only someone who’d never been kissed before could. Dean moans, pulling his friend closer, and deepens the kiss as Cas opens up before him.  
“Dean,” he whimpers, holding a handful of Dean’s shirt tight, rocking his hips against the hunter’s thigh.  
“Cas…C…Cas, slow down…I said kissing- you’re…baby, slow down,” Dean says, chuckling at Castiel’ enthusiasm.  
“….I…Dean, I want…”  
“What baby, what do you want?”  
Cas pauses, licking his lips and looking up at Dean.  
“More...,” he whispers.  
Dean pauses once again, breath hitching in the back of his throat, and he lets out a slow growl before capturing Castiel’s lips once again.

They spend the night making their own heat, the windows steaming up as Dean shows Castiel just how very convenient it can be to be a human.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Gif prompt:  
> fluffy: the one in which dean and human!cas have to share a bed, and cas wants to sleep but can’t, because dean is just that close

  
  
Castiel tossed and turned what seemed like most of the night, attempting to find a position that his human body would be comfortable in, to no avail. Lying on his back made his legs ache for some reason, but lying on either side meant he had no idea what to do with his arms. Did you put the arm under the pillow? Behind your body? In front of you, but wrapped around your waist? No matter what he did, he couldn’t get comfortable.

After barely twenty minutes of this, Dean finally spoke up, gruff voice hoarse after a long day of yelling while hunting, and then drinking away the muscles aches.

“Cas,” Dean snaps, and the former angel instantly stills.

“…Yes Dean?”

“…Stop. Moving.”

“I can’t sleep…”

“You’ve only been trying for twenty minutes, just…hold still, or I’ll make you.” Dean grumps, clearly irritated at having to tell a grown man how to behave.

“…Okay Dean,” Castiel says quietly.

Cas is still for five minutes, before he starts shifting again. Dean groans and reaches across the double bed they’re in, grabbing his bunk-mate and hauling him close, strong arms wrapping around the leaner frame of the other man. Castiel instantly stills as Dean whispers against his ear,

“Hold still, go to sleep, or I’m going to knock you out, so help me God.”

Castiel swallows thickly, the sudden proximity of Dean’s body making this a thousand times more difficult.

Now his entire body was thrumming with nervous energy, itching all over and tingling, like he was a live wire and Dean was just feeding him more and more juice every place they touched.

Castiel focuses on his breathing, remembering his first panic attack when he became human, and how Sam had helped him through it with deep breathing and meditation exercises.

Breathe in…Breathe out…Breathe in…Breathe out…

It was working a little bit, but with each breath in, Castiel on seemed to notice how Dean’s hand felt, solid and warm, pressed against his chest. With each breath out, the arm around his waist shifted just slightly, sending worn cotton fabric slipping over his sensitive skin.

Castiel flushes when he realizes that his body was reacting much the same way as it had when he’d been watching that TV show about the pizza man and his friend, the baby sitter.

This wasn’t good…Dean hadn’t liked him getting a ‘boner’ then…he most certainly wouldn’t like it now. The hunter was already upset about having to share the double with Castiel, after Sam had refused to share the bed, claiming the extra long twin across the room for himself.

“Bite me, Dean, I haven’t slept on a bed where my feet didn’t hang off the end in years!”

Dean had conceded the point begrudgingly, pointing to one side of the bed and growling “Mine”, and Cas, before pointing to the other and narrowing his eyes even more, “Yours.”

As Castiel realized that Dean had broken his own rule about ‘sides of the bed’, he began to relax into the hold around his waist. His body slowly grew heavier, and he found himself pushing back into the embrace, scooting back further into the warmth Dean’s body provided, the cool autumn night leaving everyone just slightly chilly in boxers shorts, t-shirts, and thin hotel blankets tossed on top. The arm around his waist tightens and there’s a surprised grunt from behind him, forcing Castiel to stop his minute adjustments of his body.

“Cas?” Dean queries, voice even deeper than before. Castiel flushes slightly, the warmth pooling even hotter in his low belly.

“Yes Dean?” He croaks, as quietly as possible.

“…You need to stop that,” Dean rasps, his lips brushing over the back of Castiel’s neck, sending tiny thrills up the smaller man’s spine, making the hair all over his body stand on end.

Castiel shifts back once again, feeling something hard press against his ass. He licks his lips and turns his head, looking back at Dean in the dark.

“…Or what?” He asks, dead pan so effective Dean’s eyes flare wide in the dim light, staring at the man his angel had become, curious and learning every day, expanding horizons left and right, changing and becoming even more than he’d ever been.

Dean swallows hard and slides his hand down the angel’s chest, across flat planes of stomach that quiver under his fingertips, stopping at the edge of Castiel’s boxers.

“Or I’ll make you…,” Dean counters, shifting his hips to press himself against Castiel’s ass.

The man whimpers, actually whimpers, and Dean’s body responds without his permission, hips jerking forward at the sound, a low growl slipping through his lips.

“Dean….,” Cas whispers as he tries to turn around, only to be caught by the hunter’s arms.

“No,” Dean hisses, and leans in to press their foreheads together, breathing harder as his hand slides lower, cupping the former angel over his boxers, making Castiel’s breath hitch in his throat.

“It’s okay Cas….I’ll help you sleep…,” Dean whispers, and leans in to swallow the man’s reply, silencing him with a long over due kiss.

~

BONUS

~

Across the room, Sam stares at the wall, wide eyed, his back to his brother and their friend, a pillow (or two) wrapped around his head, arms holding it in place, while a mantra races through his mind.

“Remember the ear plugs Sam, he said…Don’t worry Dean, I got them, I said….”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by someone else's observation on Tumblr. (http://buttfuckingbrothers.tumblr.com/post/21953458728/sobbing-sobbing-see-these-what-if-what-if)

“…That’s really good Castiel,” the kind, middle aged art therapist coos as she pauses beside Castiel’s yellow plastic chair. He looks up from his painting, blinking at her for a long moment, before shrugging and turning back easel in front of him.

“…Who is it, if I may ask?”

Castiel pauses, his hand holding the 99 cent plastic paint brush loose in it’s grip, the end dripping in green paint- green, the color of grass and spring, and Dean’s eyes.

“…Dean.”

”..And who is Dean?”

Castiel frowns at that…because he doesn’t know how to respond.

If he says ‘the man I gripped tight and raised from perdition’, or ‘the righteous man’, he knows they’ll just up the dosage of that pink pill that makes his vision foggy and his stomach do tiny flips inside him.

So he says something else, something he’s never admitted out loud to anyone…but something that’s the truth all the same.

“…He’s family.”

“Oh..that’s nice…And this one?” she asks, pointing to the other painting he’d finished earlier, depicting a grinning man with floppy brown hair and kind eyes.

“…That’s Sam.”

“…Is he family too?”

“…I hope so…,” Castiel says, and looks away from the pitying smile the woman gives him. He finishes his painting, and leaves it to dry, knowing that soon it would be lunch and he’d have to go and try to choke down yet another meal that Lucifer had tainted…

But so far, things that Castiel had created by hand…sculptures, paintings, drawings?

Lucifer left those alone.

When Sam and Dean come back for Castiel 3 months later, after the Leviathan had been banished thanks to Gabriel welding his flaming sword quite efficiently, they’re terrified of what they’ll find when they get to the institution. Gabriel, who was helpfully revived by Charlie/Chuck in the nick of time, says that if they go get Castiel, he can save his little brother. They hope he’s right.

They leave Bobby sitting in the car resting and go in for Castiel by themselves. After all, Bobby needed to recooperate. Charlie/Chuck had said being brought back to life after being a ghost for so long was exhausting, but Bobby had no complaints, except that the backseat was ‘Cramped as hell’.

They’re guided to Castiel’s room by a cheerful young orderly, the man beaming from ear to ear that they were there to collect Castiel; however, there was a sadness in his voice as he said “We’ll hate to see Castiel go, he’s a beautiful person.” 

As the door opens to Castiel’s room, Dean’s breath catches in his throat, and he realizes he couldn’t agree more with the orderly’s assessment in that moment.

Castiel’s room was covered, floor to ceiling, in color. Deep cerulean blues and aquas flowed like water up one side, turning to gold and cascading back down the other. Grass and vines and trees grew up another from the dull linoleum floor, layer after layer of paper taped to the wall, a mosaic of hunter and apple, lime and yellow-green. Castiel looks up from his spot on the bed, hands bright orange and pink, a bouquet of flowers coming to life on the large sheet of paper under his slim fingers.

“Dean…?” he whispers, but Dean doesn’t even have time to respond as the angel launches himself at the Winchester brothers, paint covered hands clenching handfuls of plaid shirt and floppy, goofy brown hair, needing to know that they were real- that this wasn’t the 534th time Lucifer had played this trick on him, and won.

Castiel cries when he realizes they’re not a hallucination, and Sam cries when Castiel cries, and Dean buries his face in Castiel’s trench coat because he’s not crying, dammit. They pull back to look at him for a moment, and Dean smiles, and Sam huffs a laugh to look at the angel. His trench coat, no longer splattered in muddy water and blood, was dotted and splashed with every color of paint, ink, and crayon that Cas could get his hands on. He looked much the part of Joseph, and the coat of many colors.

The angel is thin as Dean holds him again, petting his hands through Castiel’s wild hair as the angel cries into his shirt, murmuring ‘I never gave up,’ and ‘I’m so glad you came back’ and ‘I’m so sorry Dean’.

Dean and Sam take Cas out of the institution, leaving behind Castiel’s masterpiece on the walls and ceilings of his room after Castiel refused to take it with him.

“But why?!” Sam asks, bewildered as to the reasoning. The work was gorgeous, and Castiel had obviously poured himself into every piece of it.

“…Because it was my shield, Sam,” Cas says, eyes open and honest and red rimmed. “…and I don’t need it anymore.”

He smiles then, and Sam and Dean both feel something break inside them for having left Castiel alone in this place for so long, with only Lucifer for company.

“…I don’t need it anymore,” he whispers, then looks up at them both, eyes brighter and head held high. “I have you, now,” he says, and hums ‘back in black’ under his breath as he walks ahead of them, out the doors, toward the Impala.

Dean pauses, stunned, then laughs the first real laugh Sam’s heard in…years…after that. 

The trio pile back into the car, and as they head down the road, back to the highway, the first one to break the companionable silence is Castiel.

“Dean…can we get cheeseburgers?”


	12. anonymous asked: supernatural- destiel prompt in which dean discovers that cas is ticklish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt.

The first time it happens, they’re lying together in the after glow, cuddled together in a sweaty pile of limbs and heaving chests, their breath still coming too fast from the exertion of their love making (or as Dean would say, ‘fuckin’).

Dean’s hand slides up and down Castiel’s side, the former angel tucked up against him, one leg thrown haphazardly over Dean’s legs, hips pressed to Dean’s side. Dean’s fingers trail, fingernails brushing over the delicate skin of Castiel’s ribs, down to the skin of his hip. Castiel’s flesh shivers, and he jolts, making a small sound in the back of his throat as he moves away from Dean for split second.

Dean arches an eyebrow, smirking slightly. 

“What was that Cas?” he asks, his voice soft and rough from whispering filth into Castiel’s ear only moments ago.

“I….I don’t know, Dean,” Castiel replies, confusion lacing his words.

“…Hm…”

Dean trails his fingertips up again, brushing slow over his ribs, and it happens again. Castiel squirms, jumping in Dean’s arms, a soft giggle escaping his lips.

“Dean?!” Castiel exclaims, confused.

Dean’s eyes light up, and instantly he’s flipped them, Castiel pinned on his back. Dean straddles his hips, his hands racing up and down the man’s sides, tickling him ruthlessly, as Castiel shrieks with laughter, kicking, squirming, bucking to throw Dean off. But Dean, being the big brother to a cunning and clever boy who turned into a Sasquatch, knew all the tricks. 

He grabs Castiel’s wrists in one hand, yanking them up and over his head, pinning them to the bed as he leans forward, tickling harder, Castiel’s cries only making it more delicious.

“S…stop! HAHHA, D…D-DEAN PLEASE! HAHAH O..oh god, ple-….I….DE-!”

He stutters through it, writhing beneath Dean, his lean body arching and bucking away from Dean’s hand, but it’s of no use. Dean has him captured, fully at his mercy to do as he pleases with.

Dean’s laughter at Castiel’s whimpering turns into a low chuckle, and he grinds down against Castiel’s groin, pressing his newly hardened cock against Castiel with a soft groan. He leans down then, mouthing along Castiel’s neck, his fingers turning from tickling to gripping, grabbing at Castiel’s hip as he bites at the man’s neck, sucking hicky into life; Castiel’s laughter and shrieks turn into moans and soft whimpers, his struggles becoming much less frantic, and more writhing, rolling.

Castiel lets out a gasp when Dean’s hands become like iron, an immovable band around his wrists. 

“Dean,” he moans, eagerly arching up toward the man above him, his hunter.

“Yeah Cas? Y’want me?”

“Please…oh..oh- Dean, please!” Castiel whimpers, chest heaving.

“…looks like someone likes ticklin’ more than I woulda thought,” he drawls out, voice low as he grinds down against Castiel again, eliciting a breathy gasp from Cas.

“Dean!”

“Alright alright…hold y’horses Cas…”

From then on, all it took was the slightest brush of nails over his ribs…and Castiel would be hard in his slacks, much to his embarrassment.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> madnessdiamond asked: 
> 
> Supernatural: Dean/Cas. Dean and Cas fall asleep on the couch together while researching for their current hunt.

Castiel had been human for 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days when they come to a dead end on the trail they’d been working, trying to figure out a way to undo what Metatron had done to make all the angels fall. So far, they’d come up with zip, nadda, nothing.

Sam walks back into the hotel they’d been holed up in for a week, juggling a carrier tray of coffee and a bag of food in one hand, while attempting to pull the hotel key out of the doorknob with the other. It’s 2:17am, and he’s got bitchface #89 on his face, AKA, ‘my brother is a jerk who couldn’t bother to leave the door unlocked when he knew I was going to be coming back in like five minutes with the coffee and pie _he_ requested’.

“Dean, I swear to god-“ Sam stops mid-sentence when he turns around, and is faced with a sight that was so….so _cute_ he could literally feel his chest grow tighter around his heart. It was ridiculous.

Dean and Castiel were sitting together on the couch, almost exactly like Sam had left them…except they had both fallen asleep. Castiel was slumped over to the right, his head braced half on Dean’s shoulder, half having slipped down to his chest. In his lap the book he’d been working on was still open, but it was barely held in one hand, while the other had slipped off his lap and onto the couch completely. Dean was no better, his head having fallen back behind them on the backrest, mouth open and snoring loud enough that it was no wonder Dean didn’t hear Sam’s growls of annoyance at finding the door locked.

Sam sets the coffee and food down as quietly as he can, before sitting down in one of the wooden chairs near the sorry excuse for a dining table to unlace his boots and slip them off; his feet were hating him for being back in water-logged shoes after having trekked around in a soggy forest all day, getting nowhere on the very last lead they’d had. He leans back in the chair, watching his older brother, and the now very human Castiel, sleep together in a rare moment of peace for the duo. It was endearing, watching them be close like that, and seeing Castiel asleep without having nightmares for once. Castiel had been adamant that he didn’t need sleep, even after they’d figured out that he was indeed human (bloody noses were simultaneously hilarious and heart breaking when the creature they happened to had never experienced one before. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard someone so convinced that they were going to die).

Sam doesn’t have the heart to wake them though, which is why the coffee is cold when Dean wakes up an hour later.

The bitch fit that Dean throws doesn’t even phase him, and Dean stops dead in his tracks when Sam flips his phone open and shows Dean the picture that he’d snapped; it was just after Castiel had finished his gravity-induced slide…right into Dean’s lap.

The shade of red Dean turns has Sam howling with laughter, while Dean sputters at him to _‘Shut UP Sammy!’._

Castiel can’t be bothered to look up from his peach cobbler, having finally figured out why Dean enjoyed dessert so much, being fully connected to his vessel-… _his body_ , now. Sam kept telling him that the sugar was going to rot his teeth, but Castiel merely ate another piece of whatever-treat-of-the-night it was, and got a grin of approval from Dean for his defiance.

The next time they stop for the night, Sam gets two rooms, and Castiel looks confused. So far they’d just been sharing, taking turns with two of them on the twin beds, and the third on the couch. It had been over three months of that, but Sam had had more than enough of the awkward dancing around one another that Dean and Castiel had done…had done since the very first time Castiel had stepped into their lives; it was as if now that the angel was human, Dean was finally starting to accept that maybe- just maybe, his attraction wasn’t so blasphemous after all.

When he shoves the extra key into Dean’s hands though, Castiel goes from mildly confused to bewildered and slightly terrified. The look on his face reminds Dean of when Chastity, the stripper, had taken Cas into one of the back rooms at that strip joint, right before the apocalypse, and he can’t stop the nervous laughter that bubbles up and out of his lips. The last thing that Sam sees before he leaves his brother and Cas to retire for the night is a pair of wide, worried blue eyes,…and a do not disturb sign being slipped onto the door handle by a sheepish and red faced Dean.

Sam grins. It’s about damn time.


End file.
